


Tony Stark Has A Heart

by dearwhimsy



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearwhimsy/pseuds/dearwhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people Tony Stark loved (loves).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Stark Has A Heart

1\. Maria Collins Carbonell Stark

 

Maria Stark sat alone in his father’s study. She was dressed up to the nines in a red velvet dress and dripping diamonds. She had a drink in hand and it was far from her first. Eight year old Tony lingered at the doorway for long minutes waiting for her to notice him but her gaze was years and miles away.

 

“Mama?”

 

Finally, she turned glazed eyes towards Tony.

 

Taking a breath and gathering up his courage, he stepped forward from the doorway and made his way to stand in front of her. In his hands, he held a small robot, bits of wire sticking out at odd places and little lights that lit up at random intervals. Carefully, he settled the small robot in her lap, taking her free hand and gently placing it around the robot so as to keep it from falling. She looked from the robot to him with a vaguely confused expression.

 

“Happy Birthday, Mama. I made you this present,” he whispers softly to her.

 

She blinked at him dully and then gave him a practiced smile.

 

“Thank you Tony.”

 

Caught off guard by her recognition despite her state, he found his mouth stretching out in a sincerely happy grin.

 

“I love you, Mama.”

 

She tilts her head slightly and her smile doesn’t change and before she turns away again, she replies:

 

“I love you too.”

 

Tony forced himself to keep smiling. She was never a very good lair when drunk.

 

 

2\. Jarvis

 

The hospital chairs are sickly orange and horribly uncomfortable. Tony squirms around trying to find a more comfortable position. He doesn’t find one, only more uncomfortable ones. He makes a face and Jarvis chuckles lightly. Tony sticks his tongue out at him.

 

The old butler smiles gently at him from his bed, surrounded by beeping machines tethered to him by dozens of wires and tubes.

 

“Thank you for coming, young Master Stark.”

 

Tony waves a dismissing hand about.

 

“Nonsense, of course I’m here. I want to be the first to congratulate you on finally getting better.”

 

Jarvis doesn’t reply, only smiles sadly at Tony who looks away. He clears his throat and starts to talk.

 

“So, anyways, did you know that I’m thinking of applying to MIT next year? Ty kept saying that I’m never going to get in and he was being a real dick about it too so I got this goat and—”

 

“Tony,” Jarvis interrupts him gently.

 

Tony shuts up, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from rambling on and keeps his eyes and gaze averted from Jarvis. He doesn’t want to see that sad resigned expression, couldn’t stand to look at it.

 

“Tony, you’ll be okay.”

 

Tony jerks forward, gaze snapping to Jarvis’s.

 

“But they’re saying _you_ won’t!” Tony can’t help but blurt out. “They’re saying that you’re going to— you’re going to—”

 

Tony chokes back the words. He can’t say it. It can’t happen. Tony won’t let it.

 

“I love you,” he begs.

 

For several moments, Jarvis only looks at him with mournful eyes and says nothing. Then, he reaches out one parchment pale hand towards Tony who grasps at it desperately, careful still of the blossoming purple bruises radiating from the IV stuck in the back of Jarvis’s hand.

 

“I love you too Tony. Never forget that.”

 

Tony nods sharply and because he seriously sucks at all this communicating your feelings and shit, goes back to rambling something about the goat and Ty and animal control showing up but he’s not really paying attention to what story he’s telling at the moment. He’s busy memorizing the feel of Jarvis’s hand in his, the frail bones wrapped in crinkly skin and warm, so warm.

 

At some point, they both drift off and when Tony wakes, it’s to the silence and solemn faces and Jarvis’s hand cold between his.

 

 

 

3\. Howard A. Stark

 

3AM and Tony was completely wasted. So wasted that it beat out even his After Finals Pub Crawl of 1985. He, of course, hadn’t really been all that stressed about the finals because, hey, genius here, but Rhodey had finally let loose and fuck if Tony hadn’t been going to take advantage of that.

 

Tonight (morning?) though, there was no Rhodey, no celebration, no bars or cheering MIT students. Just Tony amongst the silent graves, wondering why the hell his alcohol pickled mind insisted on directing him to his father’s gravestone. He sticks his hands in his pockets and stares at the words so recently carved into the pale gray marble.

 

_Howard Stark, Husband and Father, Innovator and Businessman_

Wrong order, Tony thinks, wrong order. It was always the company first for Howard, his inventions first and if he had anytime left, then maybe he’d spare some for his ghost of a wife and his wayward son. Or not.

 

What was he doing here? Why now? It’s been two weeks after the funeral already. Howard’s dead, he’s gone and he’s never coming back. So why was Tony still standing in front of him again, waiting for something to happen that could never be?

 

“I loved you.”

 

Only silence responds, as it always has. Tony can feel his hands trembling and his eyes burn and blur.

 

“I _love_  you.”

 

His nails bite into his palm as he clenches them inside his pockets to stop the shaking. 17 years and a funeral, he’s never cried once over the old man. He would not do so now.


End file.
